


The Break Up

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-04
Updated: 2005-04-04
Packaged: 2018-12-27 10:47:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12079530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Satire about the formulaic nature of B/J break up fic. Brian realizes that he's become domesticated. He delves into pain management, Justin deals with being single, and Michael dislikes Justin, and everyone has an opinion.





	The Break Up

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Constructive criticism, and any comments welcome.

* * *

It was a Saturday when Brian realized that he was in hetero-land and hadn’t even realize it. The day started out normal. Brian woke up, dragged Justin into the shower and blew him to wake him up enough so that Justin could give him his morning blow job. This led to a morning fuck, then a getting dressed fuck. Justin made coffee and put out the ingredients for an omelet. Brian got the paper, and took over the omelet making because Justin went overkill on the oil, dared to put cheese in, and used the egg yolks. 

“Lindsay wants us over today. Something about showing us how Gus cured cancer or won some school prize,” Brian announced without looking up from his paper. 

“Fine,” Justin said, then yawned. “You know, Gus will be seven soon. Have you started looking for his non-birthday present yet?”

“It is not a birthday present. It‘s a reward that happens to fall within a similar time frame,” Brian snapped out. 

Brian froze, and stopped breathing for a moment. He blinked, then blinked again. He was still seeing the same thing: coffee and omelets, talk of children and family celebrations, a guy he’d fucked for seven years. All it needed was a white picket fence and a golden retriever to complete the picture. 

“Seven years? Seven fucking years.” Brian headed for the liquor cart, and took a shot of Beam straight from the bottle. “This can’t be happening.”

“You know what they say,” said Justin. “Kids grow up so fast.”

“It’s over.“ Brian strode into the kitchen and dumped the omelets, poured the coffee down the drain. “This hetero-lesbionic domestic shit is over.” 

“Hey, I was eating that!” Justin got out the cereal. 

“I want you gone when I get back,” Brian said, and slammed the door behind him on his way to the Baths. 

***

Brian got back to the empty loft, and immediately arranged for an orgy. A trick arrived half an hour early before the appointed time, and looked around the loft. 

“You’re early,” Brian told him. He unzipped his pants. “That should be rewarded.”

The trick smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Brian leaned against the door, and watched as the trick knelt before him. But instead of sucking his dick, the trick craned his neck and kept looking around. Brian tugged on his hair. “My dick is right in front of you.”

“I was kind of angling for a threesome with you and the blond twink before the party got started,” the trick said. “Ricky told me it was the best sex he’d ever had.”

Brian redid his pants. “That is not happening.”

“Come on, please?” The trick got to his feet. “You haven’t fucked me yet, so I should still qualify for the threesome.”

***

Justin should have known spending the day at Daphne’s was a bad idea. It made him miss Brian. He turned to the pajama clad girl sprawled on the couch, and glared. “No, absolutely not. I’m a guy. And I’m gay. I shouldn‘t have to do it. Ever.”

Daphne smiled sweetly. “Yeah, you do. You‘re my best friend.”

Justin hated when she played the best friend card. “Fine. But you owe me a thousand favors.”

“Don’t forget to pick up some chocolate!” Daphne called after him as he made his way out. 

If he was with Brian he wouldn’t be stuck buying tampons and chocolate. 

***

On Sunday Brian walked in on the Novotny-Bruckner-Hunter household in the middle of dinner. Ben greeted him with a polite smile and an invitation to dine on a Tibetan dish that seemed to feature radioactive orange sauce. Hunter invited him to a blow job. Michael had his mouth full, and waved his fork in the direction of a chair. 

“Clearly, this is a rescue mission,” Brian said, eyeing the domestic scene. “Mikey, change your damn shirt. I can’t be seen with a guy who has sauce stains.”

“Okay,” Michael said. “I’ll meet up with you and Justin after dinner.”

“It‘s just you and me.” Brian tugged on Michael‘s arm. “We’ll recapture our youth, party all night long.”

“You and Justin broke up again?” Michael, Ben, and Hunter chorused. 

“If you took up with me, you wouldn‘t have to keep breaking up with Justin.” Hunter attempted to grab Brian’s crotch. 

“This counts as your night out with the boys, Michael,” Ben said. 

“What did that little shit do now?” Michael charged to the bedroom. 

“Nothing. I just exercised my option to walk away,” Brian said, and followed him to make sure he wouldn’t pick an ugly shirt.

Michael turned back. “In that case I can finish eating.” 

***

Across town Justin knocked on the Novotny residence’s door. When Debbie opened the door, Justin put on his best woebegone expression. “Hi, Debbie. Can I stay here for a couple of days?”

“What did that bastard do now?” Debbie gave him a hug, and led him inside. “Is there anything I can do? I can track him down and rip him a new asshole.”

“That won‘t be necessary,” Justin said. “Brian is just working through some issues.”

Debbie bustled him into the kitchen. “You must be so upset right now. Have some cookies. I also have some pasta if you want.”

“I am. He didn‘t have to throw my breakfast away when he went storming out.” He took a bite of cookie. “Mm, fresh baked.” Justin decided the situation called for some minor regression. There‘d also been that trip down the feminine hygiene aisle. “Can I have vanilla ice cream and rainbow sprinkles with this? You know, because I’m so emotionally vulnerable right now.”

***

“Justin always annoyed me,” Michael said over the pounding beat of Babylon. “He gets away with so much. Ma swats him on the head the least. Me, I screw up just a little and she head swats me. And he always gets the biggest lemon square.”

“You don‘t have to worry about that now.” Brian downed his drink, popped a pill and handed another one to Michael.

Michael took the pill. “He never gets stuck doing the dishes on family dinners. It’s always, ‘Sunshine helped in the kitchen.’ Ha!” Michael waved the pill in the air. “He just chops up a couple of vegetables and nods along to Carl's cop stories.“

“It’s fucking slim pickings. Must be Troll Night at Babylon.” Brian pushed away a troll with overeager hands and a beer gut.

“He borrowed my Mr. Bean DVD a month ago and he still hasn’t returned it. Tell him to return my DVD and that a customer was impressed by the new Rage poster.”

“Tell him yourself.”

“It’ll get to him faster if you tell him. You live with him,” said Michael.

“Not anymore,” Brian said, and headed towards a mediocre trick. 

“You’ll tell him, right?” Michael shouted after him.

***

On Monday Justin decided to take advantage of the situation with Brian. He was going to try a sexual experience he couldn’t get with the backroom at Babylon, tricking, or living with an uninhibited partner. It was getting lame that Justin only had that one botched experience at seventeen. Daphne did it all the time. Even Ted was known to do it from time to time. The guys reminisced about their best times. 

After an hour at Woody’s he hooked up with a redhead and went back to his apartment. The experience was strange, and Justin was sure that he’d violated some unwritten etiquette several times. The next morning Justin shrugged to himself over French toast and orange juice. “So, that’s a one night stand. It was kind of nice.”

The redhead stopped in the middle of reaching for the orange juice. He stared at Justin and looked dumbfounded. “This was your first time?”

“There was this one time when I was--Okay, yeah.” Justin waved vaguely at the breakfast. “I don’t do this often.”

The redhead patted his shoulder. “Well, you were fantastic. I never would have known you were sexually inexperienced.”

***

Brian checked his answering machine. Lindsay left a long message about commitment phobia for him, and a message to Justin about checking out an art exhibit. Michael left a message about meeting him at Woody‘s, and threatened terrible death if Justin didn‘t return the DVD. Ben left a request that he get back together with Justin before the next weekend, as he’d planned on a surprise romantic getaway with Michael. Debbie didn’t need to leave a message, since she’d just reamed his ass at the Liberty Diner. 

Brian stood in the middle of the loft, and realized why everyone thought that Justin’s removal from his life was temporary. Justin was in every inch of his space. His artwork hung on the walls. His sketchpads were scattered all over the living room area. His messy desk interrupted the clean arrangement of the furniture. His high fat foods cluttered up the fridge. His clothes took up space in his closet. 

Brian headed towards his drug stash. He’d need help getting through the night. 

He packed away all traces of Justin into cardboard boxes and sealed them away. He was finished by the time Tuesday morning dawned. He stared at the boxes; packed away and out of sight but still not gone. 

Brian left a message on Justin‘s cell phone. “All your shit is packed. Pick it up.”

***

It wasn’t until after work that Justin checked his cell phone messages. He’d run into Emmett at the Liberty Diner, and Emmett told him that he’d called Justin twice. Justin realized he’d forgotten to turn on his phone. 

His demeanor must have changed, because Emmett shifted his focus from the menu to Justin. “What’s happened?”

Justin stared at his phone. “Brian told me to pick up my stuff.”

Emmett reached over, and squeezed his hand. “Oh, Sweetie. What are you going to do?”

Justin contemplated his options. “Check into a hotel room,” he smiled fast and naughty, “and enjoy some privacy.”

“What?” Emmett said. 

“Well, it’s not like I get many opportunities for it.”

***

Brian leaned against the loft door and was waiting for a trick to blow him when he experienced déjà vu. He looked down at the trick. “If you mention a threesome with Justin I‘ll kick you out.”

The trick looked up. “Who? Oh, if you mean the blond twink you hang out with, I don’t want him.”

“Good,” Brian said, and pushed the trick’s head towards his dick. 

But the trick continued talking. “He’s not fuckable at all. Too scrawny, and I heard he has a gimp hand.”

Brian hauled the trick to his feet. “Get out.”

“What? I thought you were going to fuck me,” the trick protested on his way out. 

As he was slamming the door shut, Brian said, “Crazy people make my dick soft.”

And he was crazy. Brian had never known anyone else who was fuckable twenty-four hours a day. Justin was so fuckable that Brian wanted to spend time with him when they weren’t fucking. 

***

On Wednesday, Justin figured five days was enough time for Brian to choose. He went straight to the loft after work. The loft door was half open. Justin slipped through the small space and locked the door behind him. Brian was sitting on the couch, reading a magazine. 

“Hey,” Justin said, and moved further into the loft. 

“Hey,” Brian said without looking up. 

Justin stopped by the kitchen and poured himself a glass of his favorite juice from what was supposed to be a half empty bottle, but was now brand new. He moved past his artwork hanging on the walls. His mail sat on his suspiciously uncluttered desk. While he was opening his mail he checked the phone messages, and scowled when he heard Michael’s. He wasn’t going to return Mr. Bean until Michael returned Scary Movie IV, which he‘d had for two months. Justin emptied his bag full of dirty clothes into the laundry hamper, and changed out of his suit. His clothes were organized by color and style, and he couldn’t find the sweats he’d had since high school. 

Justin came back out into the living area and stood in front of Brian. “I thought you packed up my shit.”

Brian flipped a page, and didn’t look up. “I did.”

Justin hesitated. Then in a burst of vulnerability and confidence he tore the magazine out of Brian’s hands and straddled him. “Did you miss me?”

“You’d have to be gone for me to miss you.” Brian wound his arms around Justin’s neck, and started making up for five days worth of kissing, groping, and fucking. 

 

EPILOGUE:

Six months later they fought and Justin queened out. They were back together after three days.


End file.
